


Swan And Horse

by StarsOverTheEast



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2017-03-03
Packaged: 2018-09-28 03:57:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10070321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarsOverTheEast/pseuds/StarsOverTheEast
Summary: Éomer and Lothíriel compete for their son's affection. Or rather, to be the one who gives him his new favorite toy.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hindue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hindue/gifts).



> For a friend. 
> 
> Characterization of Lothíriel influenced by The Lord of the Rings Online.

It was a fine toy. Made finer still in that it had been a gift from her father, a personalized gift for his beloved grandson.

When it had been delivered earlier that day and lifted from its crate Lothíriel had squealed with joy. A mother swan, head tilted and wings drawn up, looking as though she were at peace in the water. Behind her, on a string of silver, were her three little ones.

 _Elfwine may wish to pull his friends along on a string_ , the note from her father had said. _I think he will find it quite enjoyable._

Lothíriel had investigated at once and much to her surprise the babies had opened and closed their mouths as they followed along after their mother. Each one occasionally sounding as a small bell.

She showed it to her husband immediately.

“It is a wonder Lothíriel. Elfwine will have Meduseld filled with its noise.”

“I am going to give it to him immediately. He will take his first steps soon and should have such a friend to walk with him.”

“Yes,” agreed her husband. “But first …”

Crossing the room Éomer had reached into a small closet and plucked his own gift from its hold. A wooden horse, expertly carved and painted and with a mane as magnificent as any real one. Its legs were attached to two pieces of curved wood and when Éomer pushed it with his hand it began to rock.

Lothíriel raised her eyebrows.

“Could not Éomer King find a real horse for his son?”

“Éomer King could give his son any number of fine horses. It is Lothíriel who hinders him from having a real steed. A mount that can be ridden safely beside his mother’s chair is the best I can do. For now.”

“His mother appreciates the thought.”

“I am glad.”

“But we will allow Elfwine to choose his favorite.”

“Lothíriel …”

Moving just out of his reach Lothíriel picked up her gift and motioned for Éomer to follow.

“If you do not hurry I will beat you there!”

Turning the corner and taking quick steps towards her son’s room, Lothíriel turned her head listening for noise behind her. In a few seconds the sound of Éomer’s footsteps sounded behind her, quickly approaching.

As the two entered his room Elfwine glanced up from the mess of furs, bright blankets, and soft pillows that surrounded him. The young girl that sat at his side sprang to her feet, giving them a small bow.

“He has been the most wonderful child today,” she said quickly, beaming down at her charge. “I thought to feed him in a few minutes but, I see you have bought gifts!”

Quickly excusing herself the girl disappeared from the room and Lothíriel sat the toy on the table near her.

“Elfwine,” called Éomer, still holding onto the horse. “Elfwine, look –“

Lothíriel stepped in front of him.

“Elfwine,” she began, reaching down to pick up the curious child. “We have a surprise for you!”

Elfwine immediately turned his attention from his father and reached for the necklace around his mother’s neck. Laughing Lothiriel shook her head and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“No my dear, something else!”

“We will give him my gift first,” Éomer said. “A prince of Rohan –“

“We will give the gifts together,” Lothíriel cut in, giving her husband a stern look. “And allow him to decide which he treasures more.”

She nodded at the table and with a sigh Éomer carefully placed the horse next to the line of swans.

“Would you like a toy?”

Elfwine bounced in her arms, seeming to understand the promise of a treat and with a spin towards the table Lothíriel presented him with the two toys.

“They are both for you,” she explained lowering him so he could reach out. “But I’m afraid your father and I –“

“Son, the horse –“

Éomer raised his hand to give the toy a push. And immediately dropped it at his wife’s glare.

“We are letting him decide.”

Elfwine studied the two animals for a minute, babbling a bit as if considering out loud. Suddenly his little hand shot out, closing around

The swan.

Éomer groaned and Lothíriel beamed as Elfwine tugged at the toy, causing one of the small swans to let out a small ring. In a matter of seconds he was on the floor with his new friend, delighting as his mother moved it in a circle around him.

“He doesn’t like horses,” Éomer mused, sitting opposite his child and stroking the wooden horse’s neck.

“He loves horses,” replied Lothíriel. “The children of Rohan are born with such a love. You are simply jealous.”

“I am not.”

“Yes you are. Oh, father will be thrilled. When next we take Elfwine to Dol Amroth he will be the talk of the city.”

“Alas for the son of Éomer, choosing a swan over –“

Éomer broke off as Elfwine suddenly turned from the swans and leaned towards the horse beside his father. Immediately Éomer lifted him up, setting him on its back.

“Orse,” he mumbled, glancing at his father. “Ga.”

“Horse.”

“Ga!”

Lothíriel sighed as Éomer gave him a slight plush, keeping one careful hand on his son.

“He continues to be your son,” she said, a smile coming to her face. “I should have known.”

Éomer continue the gentle rocking, moving Elfwine’s hands into proper position.

“He rides as a king already!”

“Éomer …”

Éomer reached over, pulling the swans next to the horse and looping the string around its neck. Elfwine patted the horse’s neck and squealed in delight.

Getting on her knees beside them Lothíriel wrapped her arm around Éomer’s free one.

“Is this a bargain,” she asked. “To make me feel better that my gift is the less favored?”

Still keeping a hand on his son Éomer pressed a light kiss to Lothíriel’s cheek.

“He should ride his swan. As I ride with my queen.”

“You are trying to flatter me, Éomer son of Éomund.”

“Is it working?”

“Perhaps.”

And thus, returning his kiss, Lothíriel settled down beside her husband.

Fine toys indeed.


End file.
